


party games

by stryii



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Halloween, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, spoopy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:24:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stryii/pseuds/stryii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, there was no way this night was going to be ideal. Not by a long shot, and especially not with this stupid mock-horror game they were being forced to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the stranger

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a little bit nervous posting this, so please bear with me! it's been awhile since i've done any fanfiction. i just really love the jean/marco pairing in snk, and i guess i love it so much i seem to want to write about it! (except, you know, under happier circumstances orz)
> 
> this will probs run a lil after Halloween, but you know. hopefully i'll finish this story, too, eventually! please enjoy!

“Please, _please_.”

Jean grimaced a little bit when his group of friends showed up, more or less unannounced, at the door of his parent’s house, begging him to go to this last-ditch attempt of a Halloween party. Connie was at the front of the group, eyes round and desperate; just behind him, Sasha’s own eager face hovered over Connie’s left shoulder. About a hundred feet back, a trio of figures hung behind in the waning and orange October afternoon. The air was getting to be a bit chillier than usual, and the shadows of the three people stretched across the dying grass of Jean's small yard. He guessed that two of them had to be Krista and Ymir, but he wasn’t so sure of the identity of the last person. 

Hesitantly, Jean turned his attention back to the begging faces. Jesus, did they have to play the begging game like they were sniveling little toddlers? Couldn’t they just text Jean like a normal adult to see if he’d join them on their adventure to this last minute party? Also, the fuck was with their costumes? Connie and Sasha had decided to go to this party as CatDog, with Connie as the canine half, and Sasha the feline part of their conjoined costume. Amusement temporarily danced through Jean’s mind, as he thought of how they were supposed to successfully stick together while moving.

After a moment, he shook himself free of the thought; instead, he simply offered a frown to the two. “What happened to our usual plans? Like going to Sasha’s apartment and playing drinking games to shitty horror movies? Also, who is _that_?” Jean finally asked, and his head nodded stiffly to the people in the back.

Sasha animatedly beat Connie to the answer. “Of course y’all are still coming over! Pfft! We’ve been doing this same thing for, what, five years now? Why would we stop now?” She guffawed at Jean’s ridiculous questioning of their routine. But in a more serious tone, she touchily added, “Don’t forget to bring food, alright?”

“Alright, alright.” Jean conceded. “Ok, fine. So, like I said, who is really back there? Also, who exactly is throwing this lame ass party?”

“It’s Reiner’s party!” Connie chirped, before Sasha even had a chance to open her mouth. “Fucking Reiner, man!”

Jean was starting to get a little more intrigued. Reiner, huh? Shit, no one had honestly seen him in a while, since he had been travelling the country. He had come back to their hometown from time to time, but never for longer than a few days. “What about Bert? Is he gonna be there too?” Connie nodded. “…Alright, fine. I’ll go.” The taller man humbly resolved. “But one of you, please tell me— _who_ is back there?”

The two could sense the agitation frothing beneath Jean’s steady voice, and Sasha answered for both of them. “Ymir and Krista! Who else?” Jean only glowered at her in response. Suddenly, though, a light bulb seemed to go off in her nonchalant head. “Ah! Oh, oh, right. No, yeah, that’s Connie’s friend. Right?” She tried hard to remember the name. “Matt… Marvin…?”

“Marco.” Connie filled in for her. He flashed a sheepish grin at Jean. “Do you remember him? He went to our high school, and then we both ended up going to the same university. We usually hang together there, and he also kinda knows Reiner and all them… hope you don’t mind if he tags along with our group tonight.”

Jean’s eyes strained against the harsh redness of the sky as he tried to make out Connie’s friend. He seemed to be of average height, since he was a few inches short when standing next to the lanky Ymir. His hair looked brownish, too. The warm colors of the setting sun highlighted the stranger’s smiling and pleasant face, but Jean was too far away to absorb much else. Basically, Jean concluded, Connie’s friend could fit the description of possibly anyone.

Still, the taller man kept looking hard at the figure, as if the recognition would manifest itself from the boy’s shadow. Marco… he couldn’t put the name to any familiar face he knew; after all, their high school had been huge, with way too many kids. Maybe if he got a clearer view of this kid, he might be able to vaguely recall who he actually was.

“So… do you mind?”

Jean blinked and turned his stare back toward Connie. “Oh. Yeah, no, I don’t mind.” Sasha looked expectantly at Jean, a wild smile on her face, and pointed a cheeky finger at him. He growled. “And no, Sasha, I’m not going to wear a goddamn costume.”

She halfheartedly pouted, and pushed his arm playfully. “Fine, silly. Go get your stuff then, and let’s hurry. I don’t want to miss all the free food!”

Jean agreed to hurry. No one wanted to see what would happen if Sasha missed it, either.

 


	2. the car ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's taking awhile. school is giving me too much work as soon as i want to write in my spare time ._.
> 
> slowly but surely, it's coming along though

Ymir’s Jeep could only hold so many people, and two people in the back were more than enough. Having four young adults uncomfortably pressed against each other, though, was more than pushing it.

“How are you guys holding up? We’re almost there, I think. Are we almost there, Ymir?” Krista’s sincere voice asked from the comfort of the shabby passenger’s seat. Ymir shrugged her shoulders, took another drag of her cigarette, and flicked the ashes out of the rolled down window. Nervously, Krista twisted her body to peek at the four in the back, a concerned look on her angelic face. “Uhm, I think we’re almost there, ok?”

Jean scoffed from the backseat. He was stuck on the far right side of the seat, and kept consciously pressing his body as far as possible into the side of the car, as to make as much room as possible. The Marco kid was next to him, then Connie, and of course, Sasha. Sasha was bouncing about, occasionally leaning as far forward as she could, and talking excitedly to no one in particular about nothing in particular. Connie was doing about the same thing as Sasha, except proclaiming to everyone in the car how he was the absolute king of beer pong. No one really cared.

Marco, however, was a lot quieter than Jean had imagined. The taller man watched as Connie’s friend occasionally lifted his gaze from the dirty rubber floor to the buoyant chatter going on in the car. Jean noticed how the boy’s chocolate eyes would widen in a sort of mesmerizing way, the soft brown shining from glints of light outside, as if almost trapping the reflective color in his irises. He also had this smart look about him, which Jean could appreciate (especially in his particular group of somewhat dumbasses); most interesting, though, was that there was always a ghost of a smile on his lips. The freckled cheeks were pink with life, his jaw well-defined and youthful. Despite it fall, he had perfectly tanned hands that folded and unfolded in his lap, as if he was always unsure of what to do with them.

Ymir decided to make a sudden turn, and the group of bodies in the back felt it. Everyone was suddenly pressed to Jean’s side of the backseat; said man prepared for the impact of everyone’s weight, but he felt nothing. Instead, he saw Marco, who was very consciously attempting to keep his body straight and steady, and alone bear the crushing force of the two idiots in the CatDog costume. Jean felt a little bad for him.

“Hey.” He addressed Marco, which was the first time Jean had said anything to him, besides when he introduced himself around a half an hour ago. Marco turned toward Jean, and those sweeping eyes gave the taller man full attention. “You don’t have to do that for me. I’m a big strong guy.” At this point, Jean mockingly flexed his arms in a generic display of masculinity. For a second, he could see Marco studying the muscles underneath his fall leather jacket, and then he decided to hastily put his arms down. A rush of embarrassment hit him, and out of instinct, he defensively straightened up and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “See? I can handle it.”

The smile was still persistent on Marco’s face, even as he replied, “It’s fine. I’m not doing it for you.”

“Who are you doing it for, then?”

A comfortable shrug. “It’s just for me. I like to be polite, I guess. It’s how I was raised.”

Jean stopped rubbing his neck, and let his arms sink back to rest on his legs. He then started to feel physically awkward, as if he was too big for the car he was stuck in (which he probably was). Briefly, he remembered the way Marco had been unable to decide on whether or not he wanted to fold his hands.

Marco had noticed the obvious and sudden discomfort in the man sitting next to him, and gave a short, airy chuckle. Jean tensed a little, and carefully watched the freckled man’s curved lips as they opened and closed to talk to him. “I can’t really move much more, but here.” Marco lightly touched one of Jean’s awkwardly placed arms, and lifted it so it rested more comfortably on the top edge of the back seat, just behind Marco’s neck. “See?” Marco remarked. “That should be better. Now you can relax and, well, not look so awkward anymore.” He hesitantly glanced into Jean’s eyes, and upon meeting his consistently hardened stare, quickly tore his gaze away.

“Oh.” Jean hesitated, before deciding to ultimately retract his arm from where Marco had put it. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it, and before he could really think of anything else, had to choose to follow through. “It’s ok.” It was the only intelligent remark Jean could make, and the other boy simply nodded in soundless understanding. Instead, Jean turned his broad shoulders to a more front-facing position. Marco followed suit, and the conversation between them was over.

But Jean had to admit, Marco had been right; he had felt much more comfortable with his arm behind Marco, rather than whatever this tight, conservative position was. The taller man couldn’t really make out what he thought of Connie’s freckled friend, but decided it was better to not really think about what had happened. Putting meaning into the simplest things could occupy Jean for days, and he knew it— so honestly, it was best if he just brushed it off for now.

The rest of the car ride was filled with Sasha and Connie’s whining. Krista kept glancing from the road to her phone, making sure the car was going the way the GPS was telling them to go. Ymir had fallen silent, holding her head on one propped arm, steering the car up the rough, woodsy road with the other. The silence was probably because she was trying her best to not yell at the two complainers in front of the newcomer, and also because she figured it best to not give any more attention to the “children”.

“Is that it?” Ymir abruptly asked, straightening herself up. Krista glanced from her phone to the huge house that was almost hidden among the bodies of thick oak trees.

“Yeah! That’s it! We’re here!”

They probably should have seen it sooner, with the impressive amount of cars parked outside— or, really, the fact that the house was so _incredibly big_.

“Shit,” Jean whistled as he clambered his way out of the car. Once on stiff ground, he stuffed his hands in his deep pockets, and absently kicked at the autumn, leaf-strewn ground. “How in the fuck could Reiner afford this place?” Marco shrugged in response, and Sasha just rubbed her chin uncertainly with her paw-clad hand.

“I dunno.” Ymir sounded equally impressed, which was an unusual surprise. She grabbed Krista and pulled her close to her worn, flannel-clothed side. “Stick with me, babe. We might get lost inside.” Krista giggled, and wrapped one of her short arms around Ymir’s gaunt waist. The lanky woman slightly craned her freckled neck, and placed a thoughtful kiss on the top of the blonde’s head.

As they all started walking from the haphazardly parked Jeep to the intimidating entrance of the giant house, Connie seemed to remember something. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, which caused the attached Sasha to stumble forward a bit.

“Connie!”

“No, no! I just forgot!” The boy exclaimed, and a different sort of excitement crept in his round eyes. “Reiner mentioned that there’d be a huge game we’d all be playing tonight!”

“Oh no, no, no, I did not sign up for this.” Jean spat, and crossed his arms in pitiful defiance. Ymir groaned, but Krista and Marco seemed a little bit curious.

“You’re a little late, anyways.” Sasha chimed in, and Jean stretched out to swat at her stupid cat ears. She shrieked in laughter and retreated away from his irritated reach. “Haha, what kind of game is it, Connie? Does it involve food?"

The boy shrugged a bit. “Reiner didn’t say, but who cares! I think it said there’s a prize for the winner!” Sasha visibly brightened, and tugged hurriedly at Connie’s arm in the direction of the house. The rest of them followed the excited duo up to the huge, open wooden doors of the house, and then into the party itself.


End file.
